


black clouds and underdogs

by joshthicca



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, DEEP SHIT, Death, Heavy gore, Mental Illness, Murder, Other, Substance Abuse, Violence, self mutilation, serial killer au, very very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 04:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17501567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshthicca/pseuds/joshthicca
Summary: “yeah, scream all y’want. hell, i’ll scream with you.nobody’s gonna hear you all the way down here, sweetheart.”





	black clouds and underdogs

**Author's Note:**

> y'all have no idea how many times i've actually written books and then deleted them halfway through because i've either lost motivation or have run out of ideas.
> 
> i really, really hope that's not the case with this one. 
> 
> i have genuinely felt urges to write a story like these from others i've read, along with a few concept edits i've watched. technically, i owe all my credit to those creators for inspiring me.
> 
> but i tried to take my own route with this, and i really hope you like it. 
> 
> anyways, a quick disclaimer in case you didn’t read the tags: this book is going to center around tyler and josh, presented as sadistic and emotionless serial killers. clearly, it's not for the faint of heart.
> 
> please check the warnings, read with caution and consider your own safety. 
> 
> thanks :)  
> \- lauren

**THE** frigid air had been stinging tyler's nose for hours.

the pain had travelled throughout his face by now, up into his cheeks, mutating them into a dusty crimson color. as well as the tip of his nose, well, it was painted pink, with crusted mucus and sweat dried to his upper lip, forming a thin layer. his legs were aching- especially in the knees- and trudging through the deep snow was only worsening his agony by the minute. his toes were frozen numbly despite his thick combat boots, and- _god_ \- his fingers...they wouldn't stop twitching, no matter how much he tried. it was like the dying appendages were fighting so desperately for warmth, for the life back under the skin, for the blood to _finally_ begin pumping again.

fuck, he was exhausted.

tyler had been working hard for days, for weeks, for _months_...and so had josh. it was impossible for tyler to understand. why had they come home, yet again, unsuccessful?

he was relieved at the sound of his soles bluntly hitting concrete- their porch, to be exact. the texture was much different than the crunchiness of sopping wet sludge beneath them...much more pleasing to the ears. it meant rest, which tyler and josh needed more than fucking oxygen at this point.

josh was the one to split the silence. he lugged his heavy, black bag over his shoulder, plopping its gravid weight onto the hard surface with a rumble that scared off the birds in the trees nearby. it didn't matter; it wasn't like they were singing in this dead air, anyway.

he crackly huffed through the ski mask, and tyler could tell just from josh's labored exhale that his throat was burning, too. he could hear the moisture in the back of his mouth somehow, the way it draped over his airways like a filter. josh needed to cough, but he wouldn't.

tyler fumbled with the keys, dark and wild eyes darting between the holes of the fabric suffocating his face. him and josh weren't safe out here in the open, illuminated by the grey sky, brightening with each minute they waited; tyler knew that. a cloud of heat escaped his lips as he sighed once the lock had clicked open. tyler heard josh pick up the bag again.

in seconds, they were in engulfed in the blackness of their unlit home, the warmth immediately snaking around their limbs invitingly, whispering to them, _seducing_ them. and boy, was tyler tempted.

he reached up, his swollen palm- flat- sliding over the top of his own head, grasping the cotton. in one swift motion, he'd yanked off the ski mask, drawing in a breath of air that felt like it was administered from the heavens as it filled his hungry lungs. josh had done the same beside him.

after a few moments, tyler was absentmindedly pulling the knitted fabric between his fingers, picking at it like the fact that the mask was still nicely intact was bothering him. he was standing still in the place he'd stopped, just a few feet from their front door. josh went about, busying himself, making noise. tyler didn't look up; he figured josh was unpacking all the equipment, and for that, he was grateful. it meant less work.

"you realize we can't keep doin' this, right?"

joshua lifted his head. he was crouched near the stairwell, gently removing each weapon, lock pick, and any other miscellaneous items from the hefty bag, setting them neatly and orderly onto the floor. the way he treated such items with care would certainly baffle an outsider looking in. it was ironic.

but josh remained silent. he was always silent. hell, when tyler first met the kid back in college, he thought he was fucking mute with how little he spoke. it surprised tyler to see how quiet josh was, how reserved. there was peace in his eyes every time he met them, yet the actions josh had agreed to on the daily proved so undeniably otherwise.

"are you listenin' to me?"

a short nod- that was all tyler received. josh's lips were practically stuck together, chapped with cold, but even if they weren't, he would've done the exact same.

tyler was used to this by now: muttering to himself, spitting out ideas to a brick wall that would rarely give him the satisfaction of a simple sentence. yet tyler still valued josh's opinion; he knew that whenever his friend spoke, it must've been truly important. it must've meant something tremendous to him.

at least, that's how tyler perceived it. it was the only thing he could continually assure himself without going clinically insane,  
if he wasn't already.

"we can't keep comin' home empty-handed, josh. we can't. this is the third time, the third _goddamn_ time in a row, and i-"  
the brunet swallowed. his throat was raw, his voice fucking wrecked because of the weather. or maybe he just didn't want to admit he was partially choked with emotion. josh was staring at him, wide-eyed. he could sense it.

suddenly, tyler's voice diminished to nearly a whisper.

"we _need_ this. you know that."

oh, did josh know. he knew tyler's struggles better than anyone- he _lived_ them. he was more than aware of how much him and tyler needed this money. with both men being unemployed, they had been long overdue for nearly a year, now, and the stock continued to grow shorter with each month passing.

tyler had suggested the genius idea of walking around with flashlights a few months ago; it was simply another bill they literally couldn't afford, something tyler and josh weren't able to use sparingly. they had to save that for water, for heat. to power the essentials, and that was it. nothing else.

no room for wasting materials.

the younger, smaller man twitched, tossing his head only to one side- a primal tick of his. why was he actually _expecting_ a response? sitting still only made his skin crawl... _silence_ only amplified the sound exponentially, until it nearly deafened him. sometimes he simply couldn't fucking take how lifeless josh was. maybe tyler would've thrown him out already if he didn't prove himself to be a bit useful.

tyler was afraid to be alone.

"i hope you know we're goin' back in."  
his fingers were outstretched, knuckles satisfyingly cracking as he moved them fluidly. his nails were digging into his palms, but he didn't notice it. "we're not gonna give up if we didn't even get caught, josh."

now, josh was a mass, a force to be reckoned with. his muscles slid underneath his pale skin as he worked; another nod, veins protruding out of a thick neck. despite his size, his brooding demeanor, josh never once had picked a fight with his long-time friend. he knew tyler was the one who carried the authority when it came to these things, and he was pleased to obey him. it was instinct; it always had been.

tyler had given up on the hope of hearing something- _anything_. he was left with his own intrusive thoughts once again, _constantly_ : those that he could never feel the relief of venting to someone else. however, tyler felt sometimes that even if josh was normal, he wouldn't have the slightest inclination on how to illustrate them in a way that wouldn't make josh want to deport him to a psychiatric ward as soon as possible.

tyler didn't understand how it hadn't happened already, in all honesty.

"'m gonna-" the brunet sniffed harshly, wiping the raw skin underneath his nose as if he'd just done a line of fucking cocaine. "'m gonna go upstairs an' change- that okay?"

tyler's tone was impatient, and josh knew the real reason why he couldn't wait, although he didn't like to think about it. josh's power was limited to him submissively nodding again, despite how uncomfortable approving the action made him feel. why was he allowing his _friend_ to treat himself like this? more inquisitively, why did he feel like he couldn't stop it?

well, tyler didn't stick around for another second. he'd disappeared around the cracked corner of drywall without hesitation, knowing josh wasn't going to say anything to hold him back. he never did, and that's what tyler fucking loved and hated about that kid.

he didn't need energy to carry his tired body up those steps; the adrenaline- the untamed excitement- did it all for him. _that_ was his motivation, his kick in the ass when he'd start going through withdrawals. that little voice in his head wouldn't stop screaming at him, begging for another hit, another prick, slice- whatever it was. tyler was never deep enough in the euphoria, never too high to slip away from the rest of the world...that was what bothered him. it never felt good enough; it never numbed him to the point where he felt like he was dead.

tyler needed that more than anything lately.

and joshua was still downstairs, trying to resist the urge to rip his own hair out.  
he deserved a punishment, but nothing would amount to the sick games tyler played with himself up there.

maybe josh deserved worse.


End file.
